Beautiful Spirit
by GamerGirlESO
Summary: The death of Jimmy Kent has left Thomas Barrow empty and lost. All alone in the world once more, Thomas tries to go on working and living like he always has, but someone isn't quite finished in the world just yet. (Ghost!Jimmy, Major character death, Thommy in future chapters.)
1. Chapter 1

_"Faint winds, and far away a fading laughter . . ._

_And the rain and over the fields a voice calling . . . _

_One gray blown cloud scurries and lifts above,_

_Slides on the sun and flutters there to waft her_

_Sisters on. The shadow of a dove_

_Falls on the cote, the trees are filled with wings;_

_And down the-"_

A sickly cough interrupted Thomas and he quickly set the book aside. He hopped up from the chair, grabbed the water glass on the nightstand and helped Jimmy take a drink. It was almost like clockwork when Jimmy needed it. He had gotten so week over the past week, he couldn't even lift up his head. Dr. Clarkson said it was pneumonia, but even though it was caught early, Jimmy was not getting anyway. Pneumonia was fatal, and Thomas feared the worst as Jimmy remained ill. He was at the worst stage of it, so he could only get better, or that is what Mrs. Hughes had told him. Surprisingly, even Mr. Carson was worried for Jimmy's well being. Jimmy may not have gotten on with Mr. Carson, but having a member of staff fatally ill, was nothing to celebrate. Whether they were liked or not, they were family.

After Jimmy took down a good amount of water and began to breathe, heavy, but he was breathing none the less, Thomas sat the glass back down and pulled the chair closer. Jimmy opened his eyes partially and looked right at Thomas.

"Papa," he said weekly. Thomas smiled and looked down. One of the symptoms of pneumonia was delirium. It wasn't the first time Jimmy called Thomas Papa and Thomas wasn't the only one he was confused with. Jimmy called Mrs. Hughes "Mama" at one time or "Lady Anstruther" and apologized for not serving. He called Mr. Carson and pretty much any male that visited him Papa, but called Thomas many other names. Most often he called him Richard or Charles and ask if it was a school day. All Thomas could really do was smile and correct him.

"Where is Thomas," Jimmy asked. Thomas froze a bit. He never asked for him. Thomas smiled and sat down.

"I'm right here, Jimmy," Thomas replied. Jimmy opened his eyes wider and smiled.

"Ah, there you are," Jimmy said then lightly laughed, "Are you finished under-butlerin' for the day?"

Thomas smiled.

"Yes," he replied, "and tomorrow is my day off so I can be up here if you like."

Jimmy made a face and shook his head.

"No," Jimmy said, "You go to town and have fun. Go meet a beautiful stable boy...not more beautiful than me though."

Thomas laughed and Jimmy smiled, proud of his weak little joke.

"I don't think I'm meant for love, Jimmy," Thomas said as tears formed.

_You're the only one I could ever love. If you leave me, I'll be alone forever._

"You will one day, Thomas," Jimmy said, "but maybe he needs to court you. You're rubbish at courting."

Thomas smiled wide and nodded. Jimmy coughed a little again and groaned.

"Oh I can't bear this anymore, papa. It hurts."

Thomas's throat felt tight as he once again gave Jimmy a drink of water.

"I can't go to school tomorrow," Jimmy said. A tear slipped down Thomas's cheek as he shook his head.

"No," was all he could say.

Jimmy opened his eyes and stared at Thomas's book.

"Will ya read to me, Thomas?"

Thomas smiled slightly and nodded.

"Sure, if ya like."

Thomas braved and brushed Jimmy's hair from his fevered head. Jimmy gave a small smile and closed his eyes. Thomas sat down and opened the book once more.

"And down the valley through the crying trees  
The body of the darker storm flies; brings

With its new air the breath of sunken seas

And slender tenuous thunder . . .

But I wait . . .

Wait for the mists and for the blacker rain-Heavier winds that stir the veil of fate,

Happier winds that pile her hair;

Again

They tear me, teach me, strew the heavy air

Upon me, winds that I know, and storm. There was a summer every rain was rare;

There was a season every wind was warm . . .And now _you_ pass me in the mist . . . your hair

Rain-blown about you, damp lips curved once more

In that wild irony, that gay despair

That made you old when we have met before;

Wraith-like you drift on out before the rain

,Across the fields, blown with the stemless flowers,

With your old hopes, dead leaves and loves again-

Dim as a dream and wan with all old hours."

Thomas looked up and smiled. Jimmy had fallen asleep. It was so peaceful, he was so peaceful.

_He's fallen asleep.._

Thomas couldn't hold the tears back any longer and let them fall.

_He's fallen into an everlasting sleep...so at peace._

His tears fell onto the pages and so he closed the book. He place his hands over his face and let himself cry. He cried harder than he ever has before, for once again, his heart was torn.

* * *

Thomas lay the book down on the grave. The Grantham's were charitable enough to pay for Jimmy's service. It was lovely service. Even Mr. Carson didn't have a dry eye. Alfred had even come down from London to pay his respects. It has been three months, and the stone was put in place. Thomas made it a habit to visit on his days off to at least go by and talk. He'd talk if Jimmy was right there, telling him about the news of the week.

"...a new footman was hired, Kevin," Thomas scoffed, "He's quite handsome, but not as much as you. Even Ivy hasn't tried to court him, but he has tried harder than Alfred to court her. Even with Daisy, but she nearly shoved a cake in his face for some quite ill mannered comments. At least you knew how to charm a lady. He just think a woman is going to open her legs for him. God, he's a handful. Mr. Carson admitted to me yesterday that he'd rather deal with you than Kevin. So see, Mr. Carson didn't hate you. He just...didn't...admire your attitude. Face it, Jimmy, you had a very poor attitude, but at least Mr. Carson wasn't watching your every single move to try and find an excuse to get you fired. He's even asked me to watch. But, I guess what makes it worse is he's an American. Always bragging about that it was them, or more specifically him, that ended the Great War. He's nearly earned a knock in the face and no mistake, goin on about his poor little war scar on his hip. Had the decency to show it in the kitchen. Oh Jimmy, I wish you were here to help put him in his place. My nights are still quiet. I've tried playing cards but its not fun with just meself. Molesley plays a game with me every now and then, but he's not a real challenge."

Thomas laid the book down on the grave.

"I wanted to give the book to you. It's quite nice, I've just read it too much and gotten bored, plus," Thomas paused and wiped his nose, "It takes me to that night. I can't read that page without crying."

Tears came to his eyes and he smiled.

"I wish I could try again," he said, "I wish I could do it all over. Court you properly."

Thomas laughed at the last line then his face fell.

"If it would've changed much. I was happy you were my friend. You were my one and only, Jimmy."

He sighed and smiled.

"Well I better get back," Thomas said as he stood up, "Wish me luck that I don't strangle Kevin. Maybe I'll just plan his ultimate demise. I may even include Carson on it. No doubt I could probably ask him to hid a silver spoon or something. Well, good bye, Jimmy. I'll try and be back on my next day."

He tipped his hat then left the graveyard. As he walked down the road, he shook his head, as he always did.

_Bloody hell, Thomas. You're pathetic. Like Jimmy can really hear you. He's probably up there laughing at your soppieness. _

Thomas sighed in defeat against himself.

_I can't help it...I miss him._

Suddenly, Downton came to view and he made his way to the servant entrance. Once he was in, he quickly made his way up the stairs, not daring to run into any of the servants. Everyone but Daisy, Ivy, and Kevin knew how much Thomas cared for Jimmy. Knew where he probably went on his days off. Just before he could make it to his room, the most annoying voice, even worse than Alfred's, called out to him.

"Ah, evening Mr. Barrow," Kevin said as he came out of his, which was Jimmy's, room. Thomas nodded and hid his snarl.

"Have a nice day off," Kevin asked. Thomas sighed and turned to him.

"Yes I did, and if you excuse me, I'm about to go finish up my nice day off with a smoke and a good read."

"Ahh, a_ good read_, huh?"

Thomas paused for a moment, then rolled his eyes at what Kevin actually meant.

"I feel like a good read myself."

"Go grab a paper," Thomas bit back. Kevin only laughed.

"What do you like to read, Mr. Barrow? Novels, or more catalogs. I for one, don't like the reading, but I do love cards."

"Thomas shook his head and opened his door.

"Got any cards I can borrow, Mr. Barrow?"

"No, and you should be Downstairs," Thomas said, "Now go."

"Jeeze, I was only trying to be polite. Grouchy must be a butler thing. You really need that reading, huh?"

Thomas was close to replying but decided to shut his door. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Oh, God give me strength."

After Dinner was served and the servant's had finished up, Thomas was left, once again, alone in the servants hall. Playing with the cards that were Jimmy's. He smiled. Since Jimmy had no close relatives, no one knew what to do with his things. Thomas volunteered to go through and keep what may have been value to Jimmy. At first, Mr. Carson was reluctant but Mrs. Hughes quickly changed his mind.

"Thomas and Jimmy were friends, Mr. Carson. If anyone, it should be Thomas who gets to decide."

Thomas decided to keep most of Jimmy's things. He took Jimmy's razor, brush, and other vanity items including his many mirrors even though he really didn't have a place for them. When he did find a place, it felt awkward at seeing his reflection at every side of his room. Thomas would never again argue about Jimmy's vanity again. He kept the hairbrush but never used it. He just wanted to have some peice of Jimmy with him in his room. Every time he looked over at it on his bureau, all he could think of is how disgusted Jimmy would be with him. Thomas was disgusted with himself at being such a creep, but he couldn't help it. Other things such as pictures and items that seemed to be hand-me-downs, Thomas kept. He found a lighter in Jimmy's drawer that had an engraving on it. Kent, it said. Thomas kept that one and decided to use it, only he kept it turned around so no one knew he took something so personal. The last thing he kept of Jimmy's was Jimmy's gray suit and hat. He kept it hung in his wardrobe, behind his old footman livery. It was only to serve as a memory. A memory of the day why they had agreed to be friends. He always smiled when he looked at the suit.

"You up for a game, Mr. Barrow," Kevin asked. Thomas was snapped out of his daze and looked up, "Play some poker for cold hard cash!"

Thomas rolled his eyes.

"I'm afraid not," Thomas said, "I'm actually quite tired so I'll just be heading to bed."

"Oh, guess that reading got to you, huh?"

"Actually, I've been doing my job, which you better start doing yours or Mr. Carson is going to have you out on your arse."

Kevin scoffed.

"I'm not scared of eyebrows. He'll probably kill over soon with all that stress."

Thomas rolled his eyes and stood up. He shoved the cards in the pack and made his way past Kevin and up the stairs.

He groaned and rubbed his head.

_I wonder if it's possible to roll your eyes out of your head, cause I wouldn't be suprised if they just popped out of my head because of him._

Thomas sighed then opened his door and froze. He blinked at the familiar figure on his bed. Jimmy looked up and smiled slightly at him. Thomas opened his mouth to speak but instead, he closed the door and stood in front of it.

"You alright, Mr. Barrow," Mr. Molesley's voice came. Thomas looked at him.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

Thomas smiled then laughed. He shook his head then opened his door again and saw Jimmy was no longer there.

"Nope," Thomas said, "No ghost."

Molesley smiled then nodded.

"Goodnight then," he said. Thomas nodded and entered his room. Slowly closing the door he took a good long look around his dark room. Nothing seemed out of place. He looked at the bed and saw nothing to indicate anyone was sitting there. He approached the bed and placed a hand on where Jimmy was sitting.

_Cold._

He let out a long sigh and shook his head.

_Unbelievable._

He made quick work out of his clothes, throwing them in a pile on the floor. He went to untie his shoes but suddenly felt the dip in his bed behind him. He slowly sat up straight and cleared his throat. He hoped maybe someone would answer, yet he was desperately praying no one was there. He decided to look and see so he slowly turned his head and looked over his should. Instead of seeing cool emptiness that he had hoped for, he saw Jimmy. Dressed in his nightclothes and his hair disheveled, Jimmy smiled at Thomas.

"Hello," he said. Thomas gasped then quickly stood up. Unfortunately he stood up too fast and stepped on his shoe lace, sending him back down. The last thing Thomas saw was his bureau coming closer and closer until a sharp pain hit the side of his head and then blackness.

**~PS. Only Thomas can feel Jimmy which is why he could feel Jimmy sit on the bed...but both of them don't know that yet :P**


	2. Chapter 2

Thomas awoke and slowly sat up. His head hurt as he did so. He reached up and touched his head and a sharp pain followed. He looked at his finger and groaned when he saw the blood.

"You alright," came that familiar voice. Thomas froze then looked up and locked eyes with Jimmy who was still sitting on Thomas's bed. Jimmy looked very concerned for Thomas.

"You...," Thomas began, "...no..no I...I'm going mad."

"No," Jimmy said.

"I'm actually going mad. I've gone mad!"

"Thomas. No," Jimmy said and got up, but as he did so did Thomas.

"You stay away from me," Thomas warned. Jimmy was hurt but stayed put.

"You...you're not here. You're dead."

"Thank you for the reminder," Jimmy bit.

They both remained quite for a short while, but Thomas could not stay still.

"I...I want you to leave," Thomas said with tears. He didn't want Jimmy too, but Jimmy was not here.

"Thomas," Jimmy said.

"Now, please. Just leave me. Why can't I move on? Now my mind is making see him. Why must the world be so cruel to me?"

Thomas had tears in his eyes but he refused to let them fall not infront of Jimmy...or who ever this was."

"Thomas, I'm right here. I'm real. I'm here."

Thomas shook his head then looked at him.

"No, Jimmy's dead. You can't be here. You're not here. Not really, just in my mind."

"Alright then," Jimmy said but instead of leaving he sat down next to Thomas who stiffened.

"I know I'm dead, but...yet here I am," Jimmy looked over at Thomas who dared a glance, "Touch me."

Thomas's eye's flew open and he looked at Jimmy.

"Wh...what?"

Jimmy held out his hand. Thomas stared at it for a while then slowly edged his hand over to Jimmy's. Thomas expected to feel warmth or perhaps cold skin, but instead, felt nothing. Literally nothing but air. No skin, no warmth. Thomas jerked his hand back at looked at Jimmy's sad face.

"When you fell I tried to wake you up but...my hand just went right through you," Jimmy said.

Thomas shook his head.

"But...wh...how?"

"I don't know," Jimmy replied in a sad voice, "Honestly I was hoping to wake up in my mum's arms with my dad there too you know, but instead I wake up in my room...only someone else was there. I tried waking him up but again my touch when through and I began to panic. No matter what I try to do...I can't leave Downton."

"So...so what you...you're ...cursed to haunt Downton," Thomas asked, still believeing this was in his mind.

"God I hope not," Jimmy said, "There has to be something. Some reason I'm still here or else where are all the other ghosts of servants?"

Thomas's eyebrows shot up.

"Ghosts," he repeated.

"Yes, ghosts," Jimmy said, "I'm one obviously."

Thomas shook his head.

"Thomas. I'm dead. How else can I be here if I'm six feet under?"

"I'm m-"

"No you are not bloody mad," Jimmy shouted and stood up. Thomas wanted to hush him but why try, no one was going to hear him.

"I'm here. I'm still here. I'm not supposed to be here Thomas. I used to make jokes about being a ghost and moving objects and tricking the women."

Thomas nodded his head in agreement as the memory rolled.

"But it's not as fun as I thought," Jimmy said, "It's terrifying...and lonely."

Thomas looked up at Jimmy who had wrapped his arms around himself.

"I never thought I'd miss the touch of others. Nor hearing Mr. Carson shouting at me. I can hear and see him but...its not at me. I miss the touch of the piano keys underneath my fingers and the cards."

Jimmy sat back down beside Thomas.

"But...then I come in here tonight...just for the hell of it. Maybe see if I can somehow contact you. I read a book once that sometimes the dead can leave messages either moving an object or writing on the wall but I can't even pick up a pen. Then you came in here and instincly I hid in the dark. I was afraid..."

"Afraid of what," Thomas asked.

"Afraid you most of all wouldn't see me. I hoped that maybe you could but I didn't want to dwell too much on it. That was until I sat down and you looked at me. Right at me," Jimmy smiled, "I was happy. I'm honestly not surprised you panicked. I'd be worried if you didn't."

Thomas smiled.

"How long," Thomas asked and Jimmy looked at him, "have you been here...like this?"

Jimmy looked away to think then shrugged his shoulders.

"A month maybe...if that," Jimmy replied, "I'm honestly not sure. When you have nothing to do nor can do, the days just drag. It feels like a year but I know it's not."

Thomas nodded.

"It's my day off tomorrow," he said, "I can run into the village and maybe get some books about...the supernatural and maybe find out what's going on."

Jimmy smiled at Thomas and nodded.

"Thank you," he said. Thomas nodded in response.

"I suppose I better let you get to bed then."

"Where will you go," Thomas asked as Jimmy stood up."

"Well I can't sleep so I just...walk," Jimmy replied, "I walk upstairs, downstairs, I can walk outside around the grounds but I can't get far."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know really. I take a step too far, suddenly everything goes black and cold then I wake up in my...or uhmm...I forget his name..."

Thomas thought for a moment.

"Kevin," he asked.

Jimmy snapped and smiled.

"Yes, Kevin's room."

Thomas mouthed an "O" then nodded.

"Will...will you come back here...in the morning?"

Jimmy smiled and nodded.

"Of course. Especially if you are the only one who can see me. I miss talking."

Thomas chuckled a bit. He wasn't surprised by that. Jimmy was a talker.

"Good night, Thomas."

"Good night...Jimmy."

Thomas took one glance at his clock then back at where Jimmy was supposed to be standing to find the area empty. Thomas blinked his eyes a couple times and shook his head. He took a deep breath then returned to undressing himself. As he got into his night clothes, Thomas's thoughts were on Jimmy. He questioned if Jimmy was really there but he would have to find out in the morning.


End file.
